


Reclamation

by fingalsanteater



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Body Worship, Episode Tag, Kayfabe Compliant, Loyalty, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 14:03:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5969718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fingalsanteater/pseuds/fingalsanteater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, it's yours forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reclamation

**Author's Note:**

> Set in between Battleground 2015, when Luke returns to Bray, and the Raw the week after, where Luke recommits to Bray.

"I could see it in your eyes before," Bray says. "You needed to see what else was out there." 

Luke doesn't remember needing anything but Bray, but it must have been true because Bray says it. He drops to his knees, suddenly feeling better than he has in a long time. 

Looking up at Bray, he says, "There's nothing. Without you, there's nothing."

Bray's eyes are shining with pride and Luke's been watching from afar for so long he's almost forgotten how that look burns him through, how the heat in Bray's gaze catches on something inside Luke's chest and ignites. His arms hang limply at his sides, his fingers twitching with longing to reach out and just touch. 

"You came back to me." There's something of a question in Bray's voice, hidden under the confidence and righteousness, but Luke doesn't hear it. For Luke, there is no question. 

Luke says, "I'm yours." The words have the same cadence as the beat of his heart;  _I'm yours I'm yours I'm yours_ it chants, the blood it pushes through his veins carrying an echo of Luke's servility and deference, branding every part of him as Bray's, keeping him alive for Bray, because of Bray. And, when it stops beating, that will have been for him too, because Bray was his beginning and he will be his end. 

Bray grins open mouthed and laughs, pleased with Luke's response. He is the one to finally reach out to Luke, laying his hand on the top of Luke's head softly at first. It's a benediction, just Bray's hand resting on his hair, and Luke sucks in a sharp breath as the warmth of Bray's hand on his head seems to spark down his spine as well. Just this could be enough, but then Bray buries his fingers in Luke's hair, winding his hand in the tangled strands, and Luke realizes he can have more. 

Letting momentum carry him, Luke falls forward to press his forehead against Bray's stomach, hands finding Bray's hips at the same time. He can scarcely remember the last time he and Bray were together like this, but his body is fiercely reminding him how much he missed it. Gripping Bray's hips tighter, he nuzzles against Bray's stomach and presses up against his hand in his hair, looking for more pressure. Bray tightens his grip and yanks. "Stand up," he says a little breathlessly, voice rough in his throat. 

Obeying readily, Luke follows the direction of Bray's upward tug on his hair. As Luke stands, Bray slides his hand from Luke's hair and grips the back of his neck, pulling him closer until they're nose to nose. Bray breathes out and Luke breathes in, like they're one person exhaling and inhaling. Luke's been burning almost since he dropped to his knees, and when Bray kisses him, licks the seam of his lips and opens his mouth to Luke, all while squeezing the back of his neck with a possessive ferocity, Luke falls to ash. 

The pieces of him that'd come loose in the absence of Bray's hands on his skin are now being mended, and he's reformed until he's whole again, his sinew and muscle and bones and blood are all laid claim to by Bray.

He sucks Bray's tongue, draws it into his mouth and traces its shape with his own, while pushing up Bray's shirt to run his fingers over the soft skin of his sides. Luke wants to touch every inch of Bray, wants to look down on him and relearn what'll make him arch up into his hands and what'll make him come undone. He wants Bray to possess him, to find pleasure in him and use him as he wishes. 

The backs of Bray's legs find the edge of the bed and he almost falls back, but Luke's grip on his hips keeps him standing. They break apart, both breathing heavily. Bray's shirt is pushed halfway up his chest and he lifts his arms so Luke can pull it off completely. 

When Bray brings his arms back down, he hooks his fingers in Luke's belt loops. His eyes are dark, iris just a thin blue ring around his wide pupils. Luke rests his hand against Bray's cheek and leans in, nosing through Bray's beard and kissing the bare skin below his right eye. Only a few seconds after Luke finds Bray's lips with his again, Bray palms Luke's cock and squeezes him through his jeans, causing Luke to gasp into his mouth. 

"There's been no one else but me?" Bray rasps, lips moving almost soundlessly against Luke's. 

"No. No one," he answers quickly, desperately, wanting Bray to know he can't suffer the thought of anyone else's hands on him like this. Bray's mouth curls into a smile against Luke's lips and he trails his fingers along Luke's length just light enough to be teasing, eliciting a low groan from Luke. 

He tells Luke, "Show me," and it's the best thing Luke's heard in a long time. 

He drops to his knees again and helps Bray strip out of his remaining clothes. Bray sits on the edge of the bed and spreads his thighs, hard cock jutting up and smearing pre-come on his stomach. He kisses the soft skin between Bray's thighs, licking away the smear of pre-come on his stomach, and slides his mouth over the silky, swollen head of his cock and down the shaft until he's taken it fully into his mouth. Swallowing around Bray's cock, he feels it bob against the back of his throat. He gags only because it's been too long, but, if Bray will let him, he'll get used to sucking his cock again. 

Bray pets his hair gently for a while, muttering soft encouragements like "That's good," and "Yes, like that," then leans back on his elbows and watches as Luke works his cock with his hand and mouth. Luke's own cock is throbbing and pressing against the zipper of his jeans uncomfortably, but he can barely feel it because Bray's cock in his mouth is too incredible to become distracted by his own arousal. 

Bray's head has dropped to the bed and he fists one hand in Luke's hair and the other in the sheets. He thrusts up into Luke's mouth and Luke relishes the feel of the muscles of his thighs tensing the closer he comes to orgasm. Bray's not noisy when he comes - he's soft sighs and quiet moans, strangely sweet sounds that leave Luke's chest aching. 

And when Bray comes, Luke lets the tip of his cock rest on his tongue so he can feel and taste every hot, bitter spurt before swallowing it down. Bray's come is thick in his throat and he doesn't stop sucking until knows Bray's right at the edge of over-sensitive. 

It's not enough to just have the taste of Bray in the back of Luke's throat; he rubs his face against Bray's thighs, licks his softening cock clean, buries his nose in the hair at the base of his cock and breathes. He needs to touch him; he needs more. Bray pushes back up into a sitting position and grips Luke's chin in his hand. Rubbing his thumb along Luke's bottom lip, Bray says nothing, just stares into Luke's eyes, staring down to the very center of him until he feels exposed in a way that makes him dizzy; it feels so good to know that Bray's seeing how much he loves him, how much he'd do for him, how much he missed him.

"You're mine."  Bray reclaims Luke at the same time he confirms his loyalty and Luke's high on the pleasure of belonging to Bray, of hearing him say it aloud.   

His hands are shaking and he covers the tremor by rubbing them along Bray's thighs and sides, touching every inch skin he can reach.

Luke doesn't remember standing, but his knees are quivering and Bray's eyes are still locked on his as he's unbuckling Luke's belt and undoing the button and zipper on his jeans. Bray pushes Luke's pants down just far enough down his thighs to pull out his cock, a sense of urgency and desperation seeming to overcome them both. Just Bray's hand on him is enough to make him come, but Luke holds back, just a small pulse of pre-come escaping, and Bray rubs it over the head of Luke's cock with his thumb.

He puts a hand on Bray's shoulder for support, and another on the side of Bray's face, which is still turned up to him. Bray watches Luke intently as he strokes his cock. 

"You were always the most loyal, the one I leaned on the most," Bray says as he squeezes Luke's cock in his hand, fisting it languidly as Luke tries not to jerk his hips and disturb the rhythm Bray has built up. Luke moans, and his eyes close involuntarily. He opens them quickly, too enraptured by Bray's eyes and his mouth as he speaks praise, wanting to look at Bray's light and not the dark behind his eyelids. 

"Luke," Bray continues, with a tiny hitch in his voice as he speeds up his strokes, "out of everyone, you are irreplaceable. When I called you, you came to me without question. I -" He pauses as Luke groans, his knees almost buckling. Luke is inundated with pleasure, Bray's words washing over him and sinking into every pore. He's got a firm grip on Bray's shoulder, fingers digging into his muscle almost hard enough to bruise.

"I need you," Bray says and, the twist of Bray's hand on his cock combined with his words has Luke coming in Bray's palm. It spatters on Bray's hand and bare chest and Bray keeps pumping him, eking out the last drops of come. 

Luke drops to his knees for the third time that night, and pulls Bray's come covered hand to his mouth and licks it clean, finger by finger. 

He's not done; he'll never be done with Bray. 

He pushes on Bray's shoulder and Bray lets himself fall back on the bed. Luke kicks off his boots and pulls his pants over his hips where they pool around his feet. Stepping out of them, he climbs on to the bed and straddles Bray's hips, rubbing his softening cock against Bray's stomach. Bray lifts the worn hem of Luke's shirt and slides his hands over his stomach, mussing the soft hair there, and then over his back and hips and ass, kneading his skin firmly. 

Wanting to feel Bray's skin without barrier, Luke yanks his shirt over his head then bends to lick the mix of his own come and Bray's sweat from Bray's chest. He relearns the mingled taste of them, salty and alkaline, and only barely sates his need to make up for almost a year of wanting. 

It's still not enough, but Luke knows it'll never be enough. He'll always have with this desire burning inside him, thrumming through him like electricity. His heart beats out its steady tattoo of _I'm_ _yours_ , and, under his mouth, he feels Bray's answer back with  _You're_ _mine_.


End file.
